


Centuries

by Arwennicole



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwennicole/pseuds/Arwennicole
Summary: A Lothlorien Guardian desires to see more than just the borders of her land.





	1. Chapter 1

During the days when the world was peaceful, there weren’t many wars, and all of the free peoples of Middle Earth would go about their days. A thousand years after the Great War against Sauron, in the woods of Lothlórien there was an elven maiden holding an infant in her arms. The child’s tuft of blond hair could be seen peeking out from underneath the blankets that wrapped around her.

The maiden had long blond hair that hung down around her waist, her bright blue eyes normally filled with mirth instead held sadness. She looked at the sleeping child in her arms, then looked back at the headstone that laid just outside of her beautiful home. “Randiriel,” a voice called from behind. 

Randiriel turned and her eyes locked on with her brother, Haldir’s, as he made his way forward. “Dúú na-talt,” he said firmly. (Night is falling.) 

“Im a ped-man dú,” she replied. (I am saying goodnight.)

Haldir made his way over to her, resting his hand on his sister’s shoulder as they stared at the headstone that was placed neatly underneath one of the many trees. “Ho na-a man adan plural edain,” he answered. (He is a good man.) She nodded her head slowly. “Ho chil cin di thand –o hon. Ho innas no di cin an uir,” he assured her. (He left you part of him. He will be with you for eternity.)

Randiriel looked at the child in her arms, holding her a little closer if it were possible. “Na- ennas a est- an i hén?” he asked. (Is there a name for the child?) Randiriel held her tiny hand between her thumb and index finger. 

“Miriel,” she replied softly.

Haldir smiled softly at the infant, nodding his head in agreement. “Miriel, -iel –o Ordred,” he answered. (Miriel, daughter of Ordred.) Randiriel leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her child’s forehead before allowing her brother to lead her away.

Randiriel raised her daughter the best she could with her brothers helping her. Miriel grew, her hair going turning into a near dark blond because of her Rohirrim kin. Her eyes were bright blue like her mother’s, her eyes were so bright that Haldir affectionately named her ‘Silif’ for ‘moonlight’.

A few years passed, Miriel, as a child, ran down the hill towards the training arena, watching her uncles practice. She sat on the ledge of the bridge, watching with fondness. Uncle Rúmil swung at Uncle Orophin with his dagger. Orophin easily ducked underneath the dagger before he took out his sword, blocking Haldir’s sword as it aimed for his waist. The sounds of their metal swords clashing together was like music to Miriel’s ears. “Miriel!” she heard her mother call out.

Miriel could not help the frown that graced her features. “Whui ar cin hi?” Randiriel demanded. (Why are you here?) Miriel frowned as she looked back at her uncles.

“Im a- onlui tirith,” she insisted. (I am only watching.)  
“Cin ar abdollan an cín pengolodh,” Randiriel scolded her. (You are late for your teacher.)  
“Im ceri ú- iest na tíra hen,” she muttered. (I do not wish to see her.)  
“Cin innas tul- di nin hi,” Randiriel ordered. (You will come with me now.)

Miriel frowned, but then her mother walked over grasping her by her waist and pulled her up from her spot on the bridge.

Haldir looked up to see his sister lifting his niece up and the girl looked frustrated as she was led away. “He na- limb sui Randiriel,” Orophin quipped. (She is much like Randiriel.)

“A limb,” Rúmil answered. (Too much.)  
“Ennas na- baw trast- in a hén gelia- na cost,” Haldir replied. (There is no trouble in a child learning to fight.)

Rúmil looked less than amused, but then aimed his dagger at Haldir’s head. Haldir swung around and blocked the attack and their practice continued.

Later, Miriel was laying on her chaise, staring out the window. She was humming softly to herself, not noticing her uncle’s presence in the doorway. “Cin edraith cín naneth ad-,” Haldir commented. (You escaped your mother again.) Miriel sat up, looking over at him. “Cin iest na cost?” he asked. (You wish to fight?)

“I adan in adar’s dór tur- cost,” she answered. (The women in father’s lands can fight.)  
“I na- whui cín naneth innas ú- let cin cost,” he replied. (That is why your mother will not let you fight.)

Miriel frowned and Haldir sat down across from his niece. “Ha na- ú- bien,” she answered. (It is not fair.) Seeing the heartbroken, disappointed look on the child’s face tug at Haldir’s heart. He let out a breath, looking back up at her with a slight nod.

“Ha na- ú-,” he agreed. (It is not.)

Miriel bit her lower lip, kicking her feet a little. “Innas cin ped- di naneth?” she asked. (Will you speak with mother?) He let out a breath, not knowing how to answer this child and going against his sister’s wishes.

“Ennas na- baw aglar in dagr, Miriel,” Haldir insisted. (There is no glory in war, Miriel.)  
“Im ceri- baw iest an aglar. Im anír- na natha beri- nin bar; ceri- in ú- gar- i foeir?” she asked. (I do not wish for glory. I want to help protect my home; do I not have that right?)

Haldir could not stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Cin ar sael haer cín ennin,” he answered. (You are wise beyond your years.)

“Im iest naneth aen sam sui,” she muttered. (I wish mother would think so.)  
“Cín naneth aníra- cín barn,” he answered. (Your mother desires your safety.)

Miriel lowered her head again, sighing helplessly. She was doomed to listen to boring tutors about being a proper Elven Lady to serve the Lady of the Wood. Haldir could see the sadness in her eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

He stood up and stood in front of his niece, his hand stroking her long hair. The strands felt like silk through his fingertips. “Im innas trui,” he replied. (I will try.) Miriel looked up, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Cin innas?” she asked anxiously. (You will?)  
“Athon,” he replied. (Yes.) 

Miriel jumped up and embraced her uncle tightly. “Hannon le!” she exclaimed. (Thank you!) Haldir smiled, hugging her back.

“Cin ar íd maedol, Itithl galad,” he replied. (You are very welcome, Moon light.)  
Miriel hugged him a little tighter, hoping he could convince her mother that she could train with him at last. That was all she had ever wanted was to learn the ways of the Lothlórien guards. She wanted to learn how to shoot an arrow or fight with a sword. She had heard the many stories they used to tell her about her mother’s adventures. It was after all, how she met her father.  
Rage, that’s all Randiriel felt as she stared at her brother. How could he promise her daughter such a thing? Fighting? Has this Elf Guardian lost his mind? She stared at her older brother, letting out a sound that he could only describe between a huff and a growl. She turned her back to him, staring out at the window. Then finally, Randiriel shook her head. “Baw!” she snapped. (No!) Haldir sighed, knowing that his sister would object to the question the moment the words left his mouth. “He na- a hén!” she snapped. (She is a child!)

“I na- sui cin,” he replied calmly. (Who is like you.)

She gave him a glare. Just hearing him point out the obvious made her skin crawl and every part of her just wanted to throttle him. Her bright blue eyes almost grew dark from the amount of anger pumping through her. “Ceri- ú-ped-na nin sui im ceri- ú- ist nin –iel,” she snapped. (Do not speak to me like I do not know my daughter.)

“Ceri- cin sui hen?” he asked. (Do you know her?)

Randiriel felt herself calming down, especially since Haldir never once raised his voice so it was hard to continue yelling at him when he was so calm. “Rac cin,” she muttered as she sat down on her chaise. (Curse you.)

Haldir made his way over to his sister. “Im tur- cheb- hen beri-,” he replied. (I can keep her protected.) Randiriel still felt her stubbornness take control and she shook her head.

“Im ceri- ú- anír- hen na gelia-,” she insisted. (I do not want her to learn.)  
“Ha na- maer o nin ben he golas ir he na- en ioras,” he replied. (It is best from me or she learns when she is of age.)

Randiriel put her head in her hands, knowing that he was right. She let out a breath as Haldir rested his hand on her shoulder. “He ú-heni i rhû in hi ambar,” she answered. (She does not understand the evil in this world.)  
“He innas ú- awartha Lothlórien. He innas gelia na tiri- i edrein sui mín ceri,” he assured her. (She will not leave Lothlórien. She learn to guard the border as we do.)  
Randiriel closed her eyes. She could only hope that her daughter would only wish to be a guard to their borders and nothing more.


	2. Her Desires

A thousand years later, in the forest, Miriel grew into a beautiful elf-maiden. Her long dark-blond hair fell down around her waist in silky curls. With her uncles by her side, she learned the ways to becoming a Guardian for the Lothlórien Forest. During one of these days, she had her sword drawn, swinging it around as she stared at her opponent.

Her opponent was probably the most beautiful elf-maiden in the land with her long, black hair hanging down around her slender waist. Unlike Miriel’s light colored guardian uniform as they all wore, the elf-maiden’s clothes were darker. Around her neck hung a beautiful, white jewel that shined in the sunlight just right as she spun around to block one of Miriel’s attacks.

Miriel smirked as she blocked the blow aimed for her middle. The maiden swung at her again when Miriel jumped out of the way, grabbing the maiden by the hand she twisted it behind her back. The maiden ran up the nearest rock, jumping over her head. She grabbed Miriel around her neck, but Miriel elbowed her side and forced her to release her. The two held their swords at each other, smiles gracing their features. “Cin na hurl nin hi anand, híril Miriel,” she commented. Miriel sheathed her sword. (You have fought better since our first meeting, Lady Miriel.)

“Im ephola- mín vedui govannon-, híril Arwen,” she replied. (I remember our last meeting, Lady Arwen.)

Arwen smiled as the two of them walked through the forest together. Arwen and Miriel wrapped their arms around each other’s waists as they enjoyed the soft, summer breeze brushing against their warm skin from their duel. “Manen na- Rivendell? Treneri- nin pân,” she insisted. (How is Rivendell? Tell me everything.) Arwen chuckled at the younger elf’s excitement. “Ceri- ú- gladh, nin híril, im nlui iest na pân nia i ambar im tur- ú- tíra-,” she insisted. (Do not laugh, my lady, I only wish to know about the world I cannot see.)  
Arwen smiled at the younger elf’s excitement. The sound of the grass and twigs crunched under their feet as they made their way along a path. “Pân na-eithel di Rivendell…” she started to tell Miriel. (All is well in Rivendell.)

Miriel smiled as she listened to her friend tell her what was going on back in Rivendell. Oh how she desired to see the world that was not only Lothlórien, to not be only a guardian to their borders. She could not help but feel jealous of the Elven Princess beside her who has seen much of this world in her two thousand years. Arwen’s beauty and grace, she heard so much about, but to be in her presence and walking with her…it was almost dreamlike. It wasn’t even just being in her presence, but for her to actually call Miriel a friend was an honor that she could never fathom. “Ennas ar ihoss –o Dúnedain nev Lothlórien,” Miriel commented. (There are whispers of a Dúnedain near Lothlórien.) Arwen smiled brightly and Miriel just smiled with her. “Cin gar- tíra hin,” Miriel stated. (You have seen him.)

“Athon,” she replied. (Yes.)

They put their swords away. “Hon est- na- Estle. Ho guin- di in nin adar’s car an io,” Arwen replied. (His name is Estle. He lived in my father’s house long ago.)

“A hi?” Miriel asked. (And now?)  
“Ho na a bachor,” Arwen replied. (He is a traveler.)

Miriel saw a shine in the Elven Princess’s eye. “Cin mel hi adan plural edain,” she stated. (You love this man.) Arwen looked over at her, her eyes shining as bright as the Evenstar pendant around her neck.

“Di pant nin emel,” she replied. (With all my heart.)

Miriel followed Arwen down the stairs, heading back towards their home. She could not help but be curious. She had never experienced love herself in her short life, and her mother was not much of a person to discuss the idea of love. It was as though her mother was trying to deter her from the idea of love. “Man na- ha sui?” she asked. (What is it like?) Arwen stopped and looked at her again with curious written on her fair face. “Na dant- di mel?” Miriel asked. (To fall in love?) 

The two elves walked side by side to each other. “Im mind i Lothlórien tiri- aw baw anír mel?” she asked. (I thought the Lothlórien guard had no desire to love?)

Miriel shrugged her shoulders, the leaves crunching under their feet as they made their way up the stairs now. The sun was beginning to set, the colors to the sky became majestic with their oranges and pinks. Miriel stopped and looked out over the view. Arwen stood beside her friend, both of them staring at the beauty that was Lothlórien. “Im anír an,” she admitted. (I desire more.)

Arwen reached up, resting her hand on her shoulder. Miriel looked at her, giving her a small, sad smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her mother would never allow her to venture further than Lothlórien’s borders. “Im ceri- ú- nifred gurth. Im nifred i im innas n- dorth di fuin,” she explained to Arwen. (I do not fear death. I fear that I will stay in darkness.)

“I innas ú- n- cín amarth,” Arwen reassured her. (That will not be your fate.)

Miriel glanced at Arwen. How was this princess so sure that she would not forever be only a guard? The Rivendell Princess gave her a soft smile. Arwen gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Tul,” she insisted. (Come.) Miriel glanced back at the view she was looking towards only moments before to see that night had come. Turning slowly on her heel, she followed Arwen.

The next evening, Miriel was practicing her dagger skills. She swung them around gracefully, not even a whisper of sound from the blades cutting through the air. She had her eyes closed, listening to everything around her. Haldir had taught her how important it was to be in tune with everything around her. She could not miss a beat, it would mean immediate death.

She suddenly sensed someone was near, she breathed in and it was a sweet smell. She swung around with her daggers raised, opening her eyes she saw the Lady Galadriel standing there. Immediately, she sheathed her daggers, dropping to a knee before her. “Nin híril, Galadriel,” she greeted. (My lady, Galadriel.) She kept her head lowered. “Díhen- nin,” she added. (Forgive me.)

Galadriel had the young elf stand up. “Ú-moe edaved, Miriel,” she assured her. (There is nothing to forgive, Miriel.) Miriel stood up from the ground, clasping her hands in front of her. 

“Im a-húrin na bui-, nin híril,” she stated stoically. (I am ready to serve, my lady.)

Galadriel smiled gently at her, it made the young elf feel more at ease around her. “Man. Im gar-a thavan an cin,” she stated. (Good. I have a post for you.) Miriel was listening intently to what position she would be sent to with the guard. “Cin innas tul-di nin na Rivendell. Im gar-nall-an,” Galadriel informed her. (You will come with me to Rivendell. I have been called for.) Miriel was surprised by her instructions.

“Nin, nin híril?” she asked. (Me, my lady?)

Galadriel raised a perfectly blond brow at her curiously. Her hands were clapsed in front of her and Miriel could see the ring on her lady’s hand. The ring that she had heard so many stories about. “Ceri-cin ú-iest na tul-?” she asked. (Do you not wish to come?) 

Miriel’s heart sped up at the idea that she was denying her lady a request. “Baw, baw, nin híril. –O iór im innas tul-,” she replied. (No, no, my lady. Of course I will come.) Galadriel gave her a gentle smile.

“Man,” Galadriel stated as she turned to walk away, “Mín gwann-na minuial.” (Good, we leave at dawn.)

Miriel bowed her head deeply as Galadriel walked away and a smile appeared on her face. She knew how this happened. “Hannon le, Arwen,” she whispered. (Thank you, Arwen.)


End file.
